


Zealotry

by sithsecrets



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Kylo breaks up with the reader for her own safety, Post-Break Up, Protection, Self-Doubt, Self-Hatred, then never explains why, until he explains why lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sithsecrets/pseuds/sithsecrets
Summary: A First Order officer finally comes to understand why her fling with Kylo Ren ended the way that it did.---“I want to talk to you,” Kylo tells you, almost exasperated. There’s a pause, and then, “Will you please sit down?”“That’s funny,” you say bitterly, “you didn’t want to talk to me much a few months ago.”“Darling, I can—”You cut Kylo off, voice hard and low around the lump in your throat. “Don’t call me that,” you say, and it takes everything in you not to let your tears fall.Kylo sighs and scrubs his hand over his face, moving to sit up. “I know you’re upset with me,” he states. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you at all. You have to let me explain, though, please.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Reader
Kudos: 36





	Zealotry

“And how are things in the Outer Rim, Commander?”

The cadence of Kylo Ren’s voice is like a cup of ice water down your spine, and you pray that you do not start too noticeably as you turn to answer him. His gaze is keen when you meet his eyes, and you force yourself to hold Kylo’s stare, shaking off every thought and memory that flashes across the field of your mind as the two of you look at one another.

“Operations are running smoothly, Supreme Leader,” you respond, proud of yourself for not stammering or making a fool of yourself in front of the peers and superiors seated all around you at the meeting table. You can sense their deep interest in this interaction, can feel them gauging you and gauging Kylo, tracking the level of intimacy between the two of you. And though Kylo’s still staring you down, though you cannot help but remember a much softer version of his gaze, you do not let your mask slip.

Kylo is doing the same, or at least that’s what you think. “Excellent,” he says shortly, and finally, he quits boring into your soul.

You have no idea why he insists on doing things like this, why Kylo still tries to interact with you so directly. And in front of so many others! He must know what they think, he must know what _they_ know. The two of you weren’t exactly flaunting the whole thing, but… you don’t get to sit at _this_ table in front of _Kylo Ren_ by being stupid.

When the meeting adjourns, you gather your things quickly, wanting nothing more than to get away from the other leaders and to get away from Kylo. In this moment, you can’t help but think that your whole fling with Kylo was nothing but a mistake. You should have had more forethought, you should have known that what the two of you had wouldn’t last. You clawed tooth and nail to be a Commander in the First Order, and then you risked _everything_ — and for what? Sex? A little companionship? Was your bed really so cold that you had to climb under the Supreme Leader’s covers just to feel warm again? You could have had anyone, really— the Chancellor and a few of the other generals have been after you for years, but no, that wasn’t what you chose; you went straight to the top and entangled yourself with the most important man in the galaxy.

 _No one can say I’m not an overachiever,_ you think bitterly, weaving your way back to your quarters with your head down. The image of Kylo smiling at you softly in the dimness of his bedroom flits across your mind, and you dig your nails into your palm to stop the lump forming in your throat from getting any bigger.

What did you even gain from the whole thing, anyway? New anxieties and new regrets? You have always prided yourself on being a person who can take on anything and anyone, and now here you are, afraid to meet the eyes of your peers and superiors on the floor of the war room.

 _Stars, you are pathetic._ It’s an unkind thought and you know it, but you don’t care. You should have known better, you should have restrained yourself. When Kylo took you on that trip to that beautiful, isolated, tropical planet and told you that he thought you were more stunning than any star in the galaxy, you should have shaken him off and politely declined his advances. But no— you just _had_ to let him kiss you, you just _had_ to open your big, stupid mouth and tell him that you dreamed of him at night, that you thought that there was no one more handsome than him in existence. And then of course, you had to fuck him, had to make yourself vulnerable, had to show Kylo the rawest parts of your heart. Never mind that he did the same for you, never mind that he whispered to you about his childhood and his teenage years and all of the horrible things that Snoke did to him when Kylo was his apprentice. In the end, though, it was all for naught, because Kylo distanced himself from you anyway, and then he stopped seeing you altogether, just like that. That’s the one thing that drives you insane— Kylo never offered you an explanation for is behavior.

You hate him for it.

Two stormtroopers cut you off in a corridor, and you almost tell them to get the fuck out of your way right then and there.

“What?” you ask, and you think that you’re doing a good job of making it clear that you do not wish to be bothered over something trivial right now.

“The Supreme Leader wishes to speak with you in his quarters, Commander,” replies one of the troopers, and he and the other man look at you expectantly from behind the tinting of their helmets. The fact that this is one of the few orders that you cannot ignore makes you grit your teeth in utter frustration.

“Fine,” you spit, and the two stormtroopers are rather quiet as they begin leading you to Kylo’s rooms.

\---

The stormtroopers abandon you in front of Kylo in his sitting room, exiting quickly when Kylo dismisses them. You stand in front of the Supreme Leader obediently, though you’re sure that your expression betrays your true feelings about being summoned here.

The scowl on your face only deepens as you start to truly take in the sight of Kylo as he is now, you can feel it. He’s wearing his casual clothes— no gloves, no heavy boots, none of that constricting pleated garb that he’s so often dressed in— and you hate yourself for still admiring his appearance. Kylo stares at you staring at him for a few seconds, brown eyes unusually guarded as he regards you, and you wonder idly if Kylo _knows_ how handsome he is. Sure, he’s told you many times that he doesn’t think he’s anything to gawk at, but he must know what this does to you, seeing him dressed in all of these soft, loose garments. It’s exactly the kind of thing he wore when the two of you went to bed together, and the site of these very clothes has you remembering all the times you pulled them off of Kylo’s body.

“You called for me, Supreme Leader?” you ask, rather curt.

Kylo shifts in his chair, shakes his head just the slightest bit. “You know you don’t have to call me that,” he says, “not in here.”

You don’t respond to that, not even when Kylo softens his gaze as he says it. “I am very tired, and I wish to go to bed. What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” Kylo tells you, almost exasperated. There’s a pause, and then, “Will you please sit down?”

“That’s funny,” you say bitterly, “you didn’t want to talk to me much a few months ago.”

“Darling, I can—”

You cut Kylo off, voice hard and low around the lump in your throat. “Don’t call me that,” you say, and it takes everything in you not to let your tears fall.

Kylo sighs and scrubs his hand over his face, moving to sit up. “I know you’re upset with me,” he states. “I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you at all. You have to let me explain, though, please.”

And even though that’s all you’ve been craving since Kylo blew you off, you nonetheless feel enraged. How dare Kylo call you to his rooms after all this time and come at you as if he can make this all better with a simple excuse and a little groveling? Has he no idea what he’s done to you? How he’s hurt you?

“You don’t have to explain shit to me, Kylo Ren, because I know what happened here. You wanted me, and then you didn’t. You can have anyone, and you know that, so you took me on for a while and then threw me away when you got bored.”

You’re actually crying now, that angry sort of crying that makes your chest burn, and you hate yourself even more for it. Turning on your heel, you begin storming out of Kylo’s quarters, unable to look at the rooms and the furniture you remember so fondly any longer. Kylo chases after you, catches your arm.

“That’s not it at all,” he says quickly, pleadingly. You jerk out of his grip, incensed.

“Then fucking tell me what is was, Kylo, because I do not play this shit,” you hiss, and the venom in your voice is enough to make Kylo take a step back. “I am not some fucking whore you can take to bed and cast aside, but that is how you treated me anyway, and you better have a good fucking reason for it.”

Kylo looks at you for a moment, nervous, and then says, “I was scared.”

You cannot help yourself. You laugh in Kylo’s face, and it is a bitter, resentful, jaded laugh. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” you say to Kylo. “You, _Kylo fucking Ren_ , were _scared_?”

Kylo looks genuinely hurt for the briefest of moments, and you almost feel bad about that. Almost.

“I was scared that harm would come to you,” Kylo elaborates, and you can’t help but scoff.

“Well, congratulations, Kylo,” you say sarcastically, “I am obviously totally fine!” You throw your arms up, gesturing to the tears on your face, and Kylo shakes his head.

“You don’t understand,” he begins, and what Kylo goes on to say next is almost too insane to believe.

He speaks of dark, desolate planets lit entirely by lightning, of busted out temples and plans for a war fleet of an unspeakable magnitude. Kylo spins a good yarn, describing in great detail how he and the Knights of Ren had to dismantle the war machinations of the “Final Order” almost singlehandedly. He calls members of this Final Order zealots as he talks about slaughtering them all, calls them crazy people with plans of resurrecting Emperor Palpatine— or at least a version of him.

“They said it was my destiny,” Kylo tells you, and you’re much more reasonable now that your anger has morphed into complete and utter bewilderment. “They say that this is what Palpatine has been wanting from the beginning or something ridiculous like that. They say that he designed this for me and that every Sith Lord in my line has been his creation.”

“Was… was any of that real?” you ask, and you cannot help but regard Kylo in a different light now. You’ve always admired his dedication and commitment to the Order, but the notion that his very existence was all part of a master plan gives you chills.

“No,” Kylo says, and he sounds just as confused and upset as you are as he speaks. “It was all complete and utter shit. The Sith wayfinder that lead me to Exegol was very real and very much their creation, but everything else… I couldn’t find a shred of evidence that proved any of their story to be true. It was crazy, how they were living, working underground and drawing plan after plan for something they could never possibly build. Sith loyalists are always a bit… _much_ , but this was dangerous.”

Kylo steps towards you, and you don’t shake him off when he touches your arm this time.

“But it took me a long time to confirm that they were zealots and nothing more,” Kylo tells you, “and in the meantime, I didn’t want you to be in danger. I didn’t know what these people were capable of, and when it came to you, I didn’t want to find out.”

“They couldn’t have possibly known about me,” you say, but the anger you once felt is fleeting at best now. “We never told anyone about us, not ever.”

Kylo shakes his head. “I know that, but…” Kylo trails off for a moment, and it strikes you then that he looks almost ill. “When I spoke to their leader in the beginning, before I realized what was going on, he kept insisting that it was time I had a child. He said that my line needed to continue on, that me producing an heir was all part of this master plan of theirs, and that it needed to happen soon. I didn’t think they could get to you, and none of them ever hinted at knowing about my involvement with you, but I just…”

There is hesitation, but you urge Kylo on. “What?”

“I was afraid that they would tamper with your contraceptives to further their agenda. That’s why I quit seeing you. _That’s_ why I quit inviting you here.”

Your first thought is to tell Kylo that he was being paranoid, but even now, you can see that the concern on his face over the whole thing is very real. Whoever these Sith devotees were, they unsettled Kylo severely as he dealt with them. You’ve never seen him so shaken and disturbed by a group of people before in all of the time that you’ve known him.

Kylo must take your lack of speech for disbelief in his story, because he presses on. “I wanted to keep you safe. I couldn’t bear the thought of them manipulating you and your body in such a fashion.”

“Would me falling pregnant with your child really have been so terrible?” You’re mostly joking as you say this to Kylo, and a small smile plays on your lips as he flushes and cuts his eyes to the side.

“Yes, if it happened essentially against your will,” Kylo replies. You can tell that he’s choosing his words carefully so that he does not offend you, and that makes your smile broaden. (You always did have a little sadistic streak when it came to watching Kylo squirm.)

“I’ve missed you,” you say, and Kylo’s expression softens as you take a step towards him.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he affirms, “desperately.” He smiles down at you, or at least it’s a smile by Kylo’s standards, and you think you see just a bit of hope glinting in his eyes.

“I’m happy to come back to you, darling.” Kylo’s hair is soft in your fingers as you brush a few strands back from his face, and you cannot help but admit that you’ve missed touching him so intimately. But just when Kylo begins to relish in the feel of your caress, just when he’s almost purring for you, you withdraw your hand, moving instead grip his chin firmly. “But I want to make something clear— I will not be cast aside again, not even for my own safety.”

Kylo attempts to speak, but you cut him off easily, forcing him to look you in the eyes. “If something like what happened with those fanatics ever occurs again, Kylo, I want to know. I am not someone who needs to be shielded. Let me instead be of service to you. Let me _help_ you.”

You release your grip on Kylo’s face, and he straightens his back, staring down at you as he does so. He is impressed, he’s making no moves to hide that fact, and the smirk that ghosts over his mouth is one indicative of a particular brand of hunger.

“Never again will I underestimate you,” Kylo vows. “That was my mistake.”

“I can forgive you,” you say easily, reaching up to cup his cheek once again. But you’re only half joking as you add, “Just this once.”


End file.
